More Than Just a Man
by magenwashere
Summary: Santana realizes just how much she loves Wes-with a little insight from Matt Rutherford, at his own wedding. Future-Fic, and Santana is a little OOC, sorry. R R, and Enjoy!


**AN: I really thing that Wes/Santana could make a legitimate couple! They seem to be total opposites, but opposites attract don't they? And Santana is completely out of character, but I think she would mellow a little after eight years. But sorry for the OOC-ness. R+R, and Enjoy! **

"So, Mr. Berry, how does it feel to be married to the craziest girl in the tri-state area?" Santana asked playfully. Matt rolled his eyes, and twirled her on a dance floor filled with people.

"Funny, I thought I just married Rachel, not you." She smacked him, grinning as they both watched Rachel dance with Blaine, both of them laughing over something private. Rachel, still smiling, glanced over, locked eyes with Matt, and suddenly it was easy to see how in love they were. They two of them had been dating since junior year of high school, and now, seven years later, they were married. If Santana was a crier, which, duh, she wasn't, but if she was, she would have burst into tears over how _freaking perfect _Rachel and Matt were for each other. They just…fit.

She was so jealous.

She'd known Matt for a long time. They'd had to sit next to each other in kindergarten since their teacher was into the whole boy-girl seating. After that, they'd had the same teachers all through elementary school, and had a bunch of classes together in middle school. So it wasn't like they were strangers. Then they got to high school and became…fuck-buddies (like with Puck) was too strong a term and boyfriend (like with Sam) was too tame. Somewhere in between? Whatever, they stayed friends all through it, and after. So she knew just how great Matt was. And of course, he told her that he had a crush on Rachel. She hadn't thought anything of it, because Hobbit would always be after Frankenteen as her main course, with Puck on the side every now and again.

So when she found out they were dating, she didn't approve. Not at all. Rachel Berry was a heartbreaker, nuff said, whether she meant to be or not. Santana was cool with that; high school was all about hooking up and breaking up for her, so who was she to judge anyone? But if Rachel Berry hurt her boy, she was going to go all 'Lima Heights-Adjacent' on her short ass. Luckily, for Berry, it hadn't come to that.

But back to the jealous thing. She didn't _mean _to be jealous; in fact, she tried very hard to _not _be. But they were just so damn perfect. It wasn't that she wanted Matt, that ship had sailed (hell, it hadn't even _docked_), and it wasn't that she wanted Rachel (even though she was hot). Santana envied the fact that they knew without a doubt how much the other loved them.

Santana always had doubts about love.

Just as she thought this, the cause of all her love-doubting thoughts passed her and Matt on the dance floor, twirling a very pregnant Tina.

Wesley Alston. Handsome, charming, romantic, intelligent, and wealthy. Dead Sexy, too, capital letters needed. They'd been dating on and off for…what, seven years? Eight, maybe? They'd gotten together before Rachel and Matt so…almost eight years.

Damn.

Anyway, they'd been doing 'this' for years. Whatever 'this' was. It hadn't really mattered to her, because at least she got him sometimes, instead of not at all. He was…more than just a guy she dated on and off for eight years. He was…special. Admitting that made her want to throw something, but she restrained the urge. No one could say she hadn't grown up a little bit.

But Wes _was _different than any other guy she'd been with (which hadn't really been a lot since high school graduation, surprisingly). The first time they'd had sex, it had been soft, and slow, and earth-shaking. He said he didn't want her to forget him as easily as anyone else. He'd succeeded. After that, it'd only been every now and then, and then stopped after he graduated. By the time she was back at school for her senior year, he was knocking on her door during school breaks. When she'd gone to college for dance performance in Chicago, he'd been knocking on her door then too.

But real life was harder to face. They'd stopped randomly sleeping (that was a lie-it SO wasn't random) together, and had been in an exclusive relationship for almost a year. It was very much Boyfriend and Girlfriend. And she liked it, really, but lately things had been strained. Wes wanted more, and Santana wasn't sure she wanted to give him more.

She never thought she'd feel bad for hurting someone. It used to be just the way she rolled. 'Head Bitch' Santana, ring a bell? But the look on his face when she said she didn't want more? It crushed her.

When they'd got to the Berry-Rutherford wedding site (which was in a green pasture, 'dotted' Kurt had said, with wild flowers) they held hands, but anyone could see the tension.

She sighed, coming back to the present.

"Hey, San, what's wrong baby? You've been pouting for the past three minutes." Matt asked, as they continued to dance.

"It's just…"

"Yes?" Matt had never seen Santana look so uncertain before.

"How do you know that Rachel's the one?" In all honesty, he'd been expecting her to ask. Santana had never been good with things like this.

"Well, to be honest, I don't know. Not for sure. Anything can happen."

"But?"

"But I know Rachel and I are going to grow old together. Because she's my best friend. She's the one person I can tell everything to, and not be judged at all. She's the person who's on the couch with me, reading a book while I'm watching a game. "She's more than my girlfriend, more than my wife." He smiled. His _wife._ "She's my best friend, my lover, my dance partner, my soul mate, and the person who fights _with_ me, no matter what I've done. Rachel Berry is the woman I'm spending the rest of my life with, and I wouldn't change a damn thing about it."

Santana ignored the girly tears in her eyes. "Mattie that is the sweetest thing you have ever said. And I get it." She really did. "I've got to find somebody real quick, think you can handle being left on the dance floor?" She grinned, and whirled away from him, scanning the crowd.

Wes was headed towards the refreshment table, looking handsome in his black tux. For a moment, just a moment, Santana felt like the pudgy ten year old she used to be. The uncertainty that rushed through her made her tug at the hem of her pink dress. All of a sudden she was…uncertain. Pushing it away, she squared her shoulders, and sauntered over to him. She put her hands on his chest, making him stop. His own hands moved up to clasp hers so they were both against his chest.

"Wes." Before she could lose her nerve, she started. "I…I love you." Her hands were shaking and there was the beginnings of tears in her eyes, but her shoulders were square, and her gaze was steady.

"I love you more than anything in the world, and I always want to be with you. You are more than just a man, and more than just a lover, or a friend. You're all I want, and all I need. You are _everything._"

He looked shocked, then hopeful, when finally happy. He opened his mouth to say something, but she cut him off.

"Baby, I need to ask this one thing, and then you can say whatever you want. I love you, and I want to spend my life with you, and grow old with you and have babies with you. You're hot, I'm hot, we're in love, and the sheer amount of sexiness should stay together. So…will you marry me?" All of this was said quickly, in a very Rachel Berry-now-Rutherford way, and so completely different from the usual confident Santana shown on a regular basis. He smiled, and cupped her face in his hands.

"Oh, Santana honey, I love you so much. And yes, I will marry you. Providing you get me a ring, of course. I plan on being a kept man, you know." He winked.

"You got it. Biggest one I can find, just for you." She beamed and threw her arms around his neck, crushing her lips to his.

There's no telling how long it would have taken for them to break apart if all of a sudden a shriek made them separate. Rachel Berry-Rutherford stood not two feet from them, clasping one hand over her mouth and the grasped Matt's.

"Oh my god, I knew it! Santana that was so romantic, I KNEW you would propose! It was perfect, and-" Matt covered her mouth with his hand, and smirked in their direction. "Congrats guys, you want to make an announcement?"

Wes smiled, trying to cover his blush. "No, it's your wedding. We'll wait until tomorrow, while you guys are on your honeymoon." Matt grinned, and led away Rachel (Who was of course, still talking excitedly through Matt's hand) so the couple could be alone. Or, as alone as they could get on a dance floor at a wedding reception.

As a slow song started up, Wes cradled Santana in his arms, and they swayed back and forth.

"Happy, darling?" he asked, kissing her softly. Sh smirked, and drew him down for a longer kiss.

"Hell yeah, sexy."


End file.
